


Possession

by mnemosyne23



Category: Firefly, Serenity (2005)
Genre: F/M, PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-07
Updated: 2014-01-07
Packaged: 2018-01-07 20:24:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1124011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mnemosyne23/pseuds/mnemosyne23
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jayne's got aches and pains. River helps him get rid of them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Possession

Gorram, it was hot as the pits of Hell on this _gan ni niang_ of a planet. What were they still doing here, that was what Jayne wanted to know. They'd done the job (legit and everything), gotten the payment; they should've been off this rock two days ago. But no, Mal'd gone and grown a gorram conscience and had the _Serenity_ crew helping the citizens of the shitwater village of Genosh rebuild their town. As if delivering their medical supplies after the earthquake hadn't been plenty of a humanitarian gesture. Hell, they'd even gotten a ten percent discount! What'd they want, blood?

One good thing about this planet was the hot springs, which meant hot showers. Real hot. The kind of hot you just didn't get on _Serenity_ because heat equals fuel, and on a smuggler's Firefly, fuel is always at a premium. And pin his balls to the wall if Jayne wasn't sore as sin after playing Mr. Fix-It for two straight days. Didn't anyone else on the gorram planet know how to use a hammer? He was sore, he was pissed, he was tired and he was horny. Course that last one was more a general statement of fact rather than anything to do with being on this planet. Though there was something about the incessant humidity and the way it made clothing cling to girl bodies that wasn't helping one bit.

He turned off the shower when he was good and ready – it was tiny and cramped and he kept whacking his elbow on the soap dish – and grabbed a towel as he strode into the room that had been apportioned as his while they were staying on this planet. He'd just as happily have stayed on _Serenity_ , except... well, hot showers. Jayne wasn't a man to deny himself the pleasures in life.

Speaking of pleasures.

He toweled his hair quickly – swish, swish, done – then wrapped the towel around his waist before fishing through his duffel and emerging a minute later with a pack of stogies and a bottle of rotgut whiskey. He brewed it special in a still behind _Serenity's_ engine. It burned like a sumbitch on the way down – sometimes they used it to scour the Mule's chassis – but it left a body numb after just a few hits, and the way Jayne's muscles were aching, he could do with a little numb.

Flinging himself into the room's lone chair, he slouched down until he was comfortable, then struck a match on the floor to light the cigar. Smoke filled his lungs, and he felt himself begin to relax.

Blowing out the match, he chucked it over his shoulder into the empty fireplace (who'd need a fire on a planet hot as this? Useless waste of space) and popped the cork out of his jug of whiskey. Taking the cigar from his mouth, he took a pull off the jug, swallowed, savored the burn, and popped the stogie back in his mouth.

Aw yeah. This right here; this was the life.

If one room, a single chair with padding like a cheap pair of boots, bed hard as a rock, blinds on the window that looked like bars, and a steady, unrelenting heat haze that hung in the air like fog could be called "the life." But if it could – and with some alcohol and a smoke, Jayne was willing to give it the benefit of the doubt – then this was definitely the life.

He swigged down more whiskey, stuck the cigar back in his mouth, and closed his eyes.

He must have dozed off, because the next thing he became aware of was the whisper of cloth against his knees. Immediately his eyes snapped open, and he found himself face to stomach with Crazy Girl. "Gorrammit, girl!" he snapped, whipping the cigar out of his mouth and raising his gaze to stare up into her hazy eyes. "Ain't no one never told you not to sneak up on a man when he's sleepin', lessin' you got a death wish?"

River gave him a slow, sparkling smile. "You have," she reminded him.

Jayne glared at her; then, slowly, he grinned. "I was wonderin' where the hell your skinny ass was. Missed the shower."

She shook her head and ran her fingers down his chest. "Nothing lost that can't be regained," she murmured. "Best parts always come in the third act." Her fingers reached the top of the towel tied around his hips.

Jayne growled. Mashing the cigar out on the arm of his chair, he jammed it in the mouth of the whiskey jug as a makeshift cork and dropped both items to the floor. "Come 'ere," he said, voice a quasi-snarl, and reached out to grab her slender hips in his broad hands. River obligingly straddled his thighs; Jayne grinned and spread his legs, forcing her legs further apart. She wasn't wearing nothing but a thin calico dress that clung to her body like a second skin in the pressing humidity. Jayne could feel the sharp ridges of her hips through the filmy fabric. "Now I know you ain't wearin' no panties under that pretty floral skirt, baby doll," he observed, letting his eyes rake up her body then down again before settling firmly on the flat plane of her belly. "Didn't I tell you not to do that when we get offship?"

"Yes."

"Cuz there are men who won't think twice 'bout havin' their way with a pretty girl on these worlds, 'specially iffen that girl ain't wearin' her drawers." He massaged the curve of her waist with his thumbs, watching her eyes drift shut. "Bad men. Not nice, gentlemanly gentlemen." He grinned as his fingers slowly began to bunch up her skirt. "All men ain't like me."

The girl's eyes opened again, and there it was; that hazy, mazy fire that proved she wasn't as crazy as everyone thought she was, and she knew exactly what she wanted. Namely, him. "The girl is glad," she purred, resting her hands on his shoulders. "She's not like other girls. Doesn't want a boy like other boys."

"I ain't a boy, little girl."

"Ain't a little girl, big man." Her fingers trailed down his chest before hooking into his towel and tugging it open without artifice.

Jayne moaned as the terrycloth fell away to dangle over the sides of the chair. "Get down here," he said, not bothering to keep the demanding tone out of his voice. It had been a long two days, he was sore and his body wanted comfort, and there wasn't a sweeter place to rest his bones than snugged up warm in his Riverbed.

River smiled – a whimsical half-smile that let him know that _she_ knew precisely how much power she had over him, and wasn't going to let him forget it – then sank down on his lap, warm and slow as summer honey. Her thighs were moist with all manner of damp, and they slid over his like watered silk. Her artful fingers curved around his waist, kneading at sore knots of muscle he hadn't even known he had. Jayne groaned at the twin assault of pain and pleasure and let his head loll back against the chair.

"My big man's gone and wounded hisself," she observed quietly in a perfect mimic of his accent, as her fingers sought out his tender places. "Gone and tried to do too much."

"I ain't done too much," he grunted, annoyed that she'd imply he was weak or something. "Just a bit of hammering. An d lifting. And sawing. And chopping."

"Babble, babble, like a brook," she sighed, and even with his eyes closed he could picture how she was shaking her head, as if he were a troublesome child. "And they call _me_ River."

Jayne snickered and trailed his hands up her back, opening his eyes as he did so. "You gonna make me tan your hide, little girl?"

He hissed as her nails pressed into his skin. "Not a little girl," she repeated, before easing her grip and going back to her gentle massage. "And you like me pale."

"Mebbe I jus' want you for the sex, girl. You ever think of that? What makes you think I like you?"

One small hand stole down between them to brush over his stiff cock, and he sucked in a breath. "This does," she said simply.

Jayne groaned and grabbed her wrist, forcing her hand to curl around him. "Guess I ain't got no secrets then," he moaned, squeezing his eyes shut as she pumped him with maddening delicacy.

"Mm-mmm," she hummed dreamily, leaning forward to press her warm mouth against his collarbone.

Jayne felt the tension slowly seeping out of his body as she worked him with a combination of lips and fingers. He let his own hands slide back down her back, dragging open the zipper of her dress in the doing. Her skin was soft and ivory smooth under his rough fingertips, and he tugged on the fabric till it fell off her shoulders, so he could taste some of that creamy skin for himself. Tucking his face into the crook of her neck, he sucked on her pulse point, feeling it beat in steady rhythm with the pumping of her hand around his cock. Girl had the sweetest, softest hands in the 'verse, no mistake. Hands like that were just _made_ for sinning.

"Jayne's in pain," she purred near his ear. "And his River is a giver."

"Hell yes she is," he growled against her throat, panting slightly as her hand increased its speed and pressure. "Ain't she just."

He snaked a hand between her legs, up under her skirt, and kissed her throat so he could feel her moan as his fingers trailed through the warm wet at the apex of her thighs. She pressed down into his hand and he didn't bother to stop her, choosing instead to go the easy route and rub his palm against her. She moaned again, louder this time, and arched her back so her long hair hung down and tickled his knees. "You gonna make me feel better, River?" he asked, voice husky as he dipped a lazy finger inside her, just to see her jump.

She didn't disappoint him. "Yes...!" she gasped, stiffening. He felt her inner muscles flutter, trying to pull him deeper. He thought about how good it felt to drive into her and let himself get lost in that wet heat. This whole gorram planet was wet and hot, but nothing like his River. His River was a wonder.

"You is, ain't you," he agreed, sliding his other hand around to cup her bottom and pull her forward so their bellies were almost touching. It made her have to raise up slightly, and now he could feel his tip brushing against her moist curls. It made his stomach clench.

She shut him up with a kiss, warm and wet, like the way her body wrapped around him as she sank down on his shaft. He groaned into her mouth, letting his arms settle on the chair rests, and just let her go as she began to rock against him. Every inch of his body felt heavy as brick; the only thing he could move was his head, and he took the opportunity to drop slow, sloppy kisses on her shoulders and across the tops of her breasts.

River was panting, whimpering out his name and a slew of other syllables with each soft thrust of her body. Jayne didn't mind letting her take over and set the pace. Hell, she could ride him all day like a clockwork pony if she wanted, so long as she kept moaning his name like that. Like she didn't remember nothing else. Like it was the only word that meant a good goddamn to her.

"That's it, baby doll," he urged, voice like gravel in his throat. "Come on, just like that. Tha's right, you're good at this, ain't you?" He hissed as she readjusted the angle of her hips. "Good... so gorram _good..._ "

"Oil and wood," she panted against his mouth, cupping his face between her palms. The dress still dangled off her elbows, but her small breasts were bare against his chest, and she rubbed against him like a cat. "Sleek and shiny..."

Jayne groaned as her nipples grazed over his own. "Gorram, baby..." His hand slid forward to grip her bottom , not guiding so much as feeling her move, maybe adding a little extra power on each upthrust 'cause it made the downthrust that much more of a burn. Squeezing, he moaned, "Mine..."

"Yours," she moaned, nodding vaguely in agreement. "Hers. Ours. Mine, mine, all mine." Her arms wrapped around his neck. "Shiny miney...."

Jayne grinned against her mouth. "Ain't you just cute as a button when you're sexin' up your favorite man."

"Only. Only man."

Jayne didn't know why that single word made him go ten times harder inside her slick body, but it did. Maybe 'cause the only other women he'd ever been with were whores, and they didn't make any bones about the fact they slept with lots of other men. Hell, the more men they had, the better they ate; simple gorram economics. But River was his; he was the only man had ever touched her, and no one else had been with her since they started up. He would've known; he'd smell it on her skin. It wasn't that she was sweet or innocent, 'cause that wasn't it at all; she'd taught him things even he didn't know about having fun between the sheets, though he never asked her where she learned it all. It was just... she was _his_. And he hadn't been with a whore since the first time she climbed on his lap in the common room in the middle of the night and said, _"I want to be real."_

Growling deep in his chest, he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her tight against him so he could plunder her mouth with his tongue. His hips took up the rhythm of her thrusts and started to answer back in kind. She keened into his mouth, her hands scrabbling at his shoulders as she tried to find purchase on his slippery skin. The humidity and the sweat of their exertions was turning her dark hair into damp tendrils that dangled around her face and brushed over his shoulders like cornsilk. Every inch of her was quivering; he knew that she was close.

With a lazy motion, like he was moving his arms to stretch, he tore her dress apart.

"In the way," he panted as he balled up the useless fabric, tugging it away from her slender arms and chucking it across the room. Now he could feel each satiny brush of her belly against his own, of her hips grinding with his; this was how it was meant to be. This was what right felt like.

"Jayyyyne...," she moaned, digging her nails into his shoulders. There was a new note to her voice; a familiar desperation that made his adrenaline pound. "Oh... ohhhhhhhhh....!"

"You close, baby?" His mouth found her right breast and he rolled her nipple between his teeth.

"Yes! Close, close, the girl is balanced on the knife!"

Jayne tightened his arms around her waist. "Come on, then," he panted, and now he _was_ guiding her thrusts, keeping her movements sure, steady and hard as she started to falter. River threw back her head and cried out his name as the friction built to a crescendo inside her body. "Come on!"

"Yessss... Oh yesssss...! Yes! YES! **YES YES YES!** " River exclaimed, before arching her back and planting her palms on his chest as she released a wordless cry and clenched around him like a vice. He watched her whole body shudder with completion, saw the brilliant, exuberant smile on her face, and pulled her down hard, so she was fitted tight to his hips as he exploded inside her. He didn't have the air to call out her name, so he just settled for fisting his hand in her hair and bringing her head forward for another kiss, deeper, darker and richer than before. His tongue ran over the roof of her mouth and played Tic Tac Toe with her teeth as she poured more moans into his mouth like good whiskey. Not his homemade rotgut; the good stuff, top shelf; the stuff that burned the throat but made you feel privileged for the pain.

She was shaking in his arms as she collapsed forward against his chest, but that wasn't anything new. River always trembled after sex. Made him think of the kittens the ratter back home used to pump out regular every year. Tabbies, every one of them, and each shaky as a leaf on a tree. His ma had always made sure they were snugged up warm in a comfy basket with their mama. Since Jayne didn't have anything like that, he settled for wrapping his arms around River as tight as they'd go, till she almost disappeared inside them, and held her right up close against his body. River responded by snaking her arms around his back and hugging him like he was her favorite teddy bear. "Better?" she mumbled against his throat.

Jayne pressed his face into her hair. "Mmm, hells yes." It was true, too. He didn't feel anything but a kind of drowsy laziness that made him want to sleep for a week, preferably using River for his blanket.

"Bed would be appropriate now."

Jayne snorted. "You sayin' I ain't comfy, baby girl?" He massaged the back of her neck.

River snuggled into his throat. "The girl is quite at home," she replied. "But the man will get a crick in his neck and be grumpy, and the girl will have to make him feel all better again."

"I ain't got a problem with that."

"Insatiable."

"Mmm..." He yawned and scrubbed his cheek against her damp hair. "Gorram, you smell good after sex, baby doll."

She giggled against his chest. "I always smell good." He felt her lips brush over his collarbone. "You smell better."

"Next time I'm gonna take you from behind, just so's I can smell your hair the whole time."

"She would find that pleasurable."

Jayne grinned. "That's my girl."

"That's my boy," she parroted back.

Jayne closed his eyes, too warm and comfortable to bother fighting sleep anymore. "Yeah," he yawned, settling more comfortably into the chair and rearranging his limbs around her body. "Yeah he is."

He let the steady rise and fall of her breathing lull him off to sleep.

 

**THE END**


End file.
